


Out of Sight, Out of Mind

by BabyStepsAreStillSteps



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 5x09, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Constipated Arthur, Episode Tag, Episode: s05e09 With All My Heart, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Merlin Deserves Better (Merlin), Merlin Needs a Hug (Merlin), but he's trying his best, good friend knights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29300082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyStepsAreStillSteps/pseuds/BabyStepsAreStillSteps
Summary: When Arthur turned his back on the Dolma that he didn’t know was his manservant, Merlin reminded him that he was missing a very important member of their rescue party.What if he hadn’t?
Relationships: Gaius & Merlin (Merlin), Knights of the Round Table & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 162
Kudos: 329





	1. He Was There

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Summer_Meadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summer_Meadows/gifts).



> Hi everyone! So this one isn’t a comedy like my other Merlin fic, it’s a little more serious. It takes place during/right after the episode ‘With All My Heart’, because our boy Merlin deserved so much more gratitude and acknowledgement than he got that episode. 
> 
> I know Arthur forgetting about him until the Dolma reminded him was supposed to be funny, but I just found it sad. Arthur literally _forgot_ about him after everything they had gone through to get there.
> 
> Of course we, as the audience, know Arthur loves Merlin more than anything, but episodes like this make me think that Merlin doesn’t know that, and sometimes I can’t blame him for not knowing that.
> 
> As a side note, the sheer amount of cares Gaius did not give at time mark 5:10 of that episode is just hilarious to me. The episode implies that Merlin stayed up _all night_ researching, and Gaius is sitting there playing with a freakin’ twine ball while Merlin pours over all those books and stresses out, and then reveals he actually knew both what happened to Gwen and also who they could ask for answers, and he just…. didn’t volunteer it? He knew it off the top of his head and just didn’t tell Merlin until Merlin starts lamenting it is impossible? Gaius??? Why??? He talks about how difficult it is, but what _exactly_ is the alternative to healing Gwen??? Is he suggesting the alternative is to kill her, or that they just let her keep bopping around being evil but it will be fine because now Arthur knows???
> 
> Anyway, it has nothing to do with the story, I just thought it was funny and more than a tad ridiculous.
> 
> Also! Elyan isn’t dead, because that’s stupid, and I love him. I’m not planning to put in any explanation on how he survived, but he’s alive and well and in Camelot with the others.

Forgotten. Arthur had forgotten him.

After everything he had done to save Gwen, Arthur had forgotten him. _He_ was the one that had done almost all of the work. Arthur worried and waited, but _Merlin_ had provided the answer.

Gaius had given up almost immediately, but _Merlin_ had persisted until they had found a solution.

Merlin had been the one to administer the belladonna. He had wheeled her out of the citadel. He had done the magic to heal her.

He had been the only one in all of Camelot that realized their queen was enchanted, and Arthur had _forgotten_ him.

He could forgive Gwen, she had just been released from a serious magical influence.

He could forgive Mordred, he hadn’t known what they were truly doing and Merlin had never been particularly nice to him. Mordred probably thought he had wanted to be left behind so he could slip out of the Dolma disguise or do some other magical mission, and besides all that, he was a knight and had to focus on the king and queen.

Arthur should have noticed. Arthur should have remembered him.

Merlin angrily changed back into his own clothes, hurt and disbelief warring in his chest, but he finished dressing and gathered up the black dress and there was still no Arthur coming back to look for him.

He glared at the ground, dropping the dress in a careless pile and igniting it with a glance, his magic sparking a larger fire than he intended as it flared with his frustration.

How dare Arthur? How _dare_ he?

After all the perils they had faced to get to the cauldron, his king had _forgotten_ him?

It would have been one thing if they had been taking a trip to the market, or through a neighboring castle’s citadel, or somewhere that Merlin’s safety would be mostly assumed, but they had almost died countless times to reach their destination.

Arthur didn’t know that wyverns weren’t a threat to Merlin. Arthur didn’t know that the Dolma was no threat to his manservant.

Merlin had come up with an explanation of keeping the king’s servant hostage as an assurance that Arthur would not harm the Dolma, but Arthur had never even asked where his servant had disappeared to before _Mordred_ had demanded to know what had happened to him.

Arthur had been satisfied with three simple sentences from an unknown sorceress and immediately refocused on his wife, completely forgetting the man who had served him for almost a decade.

Arthur had demanded no proof, no real assurances Merlin would be returned. Arthur had no idea she hadn’t killed his servant, and he hadn’t even glanced back.

Arthur had no idea that Merlin’s magic could help stave off infection in his leg, which was clearly bleeding, even though the head injury had been a bigger concern when he was unconscious.

Arthur had no idea that the effects of the head injury had actually passed, rather than being pushed away with the constant adrenaline of the last day and a half, and his king had left him.

The dress stopped burning, and Merlin climbed up the ridge with the faint hope that the group would be standing around the horses in confusion, discussing where he could be.

They weren’t.

The only thing to show they had ever been there were hoof prints and a few dusty boot prints that Merlin knew to be Arthur’s from the sheer number of times he had cleaned similar markings off the man’s floor.

They had actually left him. They had put Gwen on _Merlin’s_ horse, and they had left him.

He tried to swallow down the emotion that rose at the realization, trying to summon his anger to hide the sadness, but found only a hollow ache as the situation fully set in.

He forced himself to move his feet, set on his path to walk the journey back to Camelot that took two days by horseback, knowing he should be hurrying out of the area that Morgana had occupied less than an hour before, but unable to summon the energy for anything beyond a heartbroken trudge.

He walked for hours, wishing he hadn’t stashed his canteen in the bag that Arthur had picked up and loaded onto the horses. He had never once helped load the bags in the entire tenure of Merlin’s employment, but the one time bags held Merlin’s water, food, and bedroll, he suddenly found the urge to help.

Merlin grit his teeth and trudged on.

As he walked, he idly wondered if he should collect some herbs for Gaius since he was traveling on foot anyway. He didn’t have a basket or satchel, but perhaps he could fill his pockets, and that would be enough.

Eventually, he let himself sit heavily on a felled log, injuries throbbing, feet aching, and throat dry. He shivered, the cold air catching up to him as he stopped moving, and pulled his thin jacket tighter around himself, longing for the blanket that Gwen would no doubt be using for the night.

Well, more likely Mordred. The quality of Merlin’s sleep kit was not fit for a queen, Mordred was most likely ordered to offer his instead if he hadn’t already done it of his own accord, which was also likely.

Merlin idly wondered if they would realize they had left him as they set up camp for the night, or if the combination of Mordred’s ability to fulfill a servant’s duties combined with Arthur’s inability to take his eyes off of Gwen would mean they didn’t realize until they got to Camelot.

If they hadn’t noticed when they got to Camelot.... surely the other servants around the castle, and the knights, and Gaius would notice....

Well, Merlin admitted to himself, eyes falling to his lap, the servants might not. He did have a sporadic schedule, and it was difficult to tell if he was gone or just serving other duties. He reluctantly realized it might be up to a fortnight before any of them truly raised the alarm. He hoped to be back before a fortnight.

The knights might not notice either, he thought with a pang. At one point he would have been sure that Gwaine at least, if not the others, would notice the second Arthur was back in Camelot, but... but Merlin had been more and more disconnected with them by the day, it felt like.

The lamia had been the spark, and the chasm had only grown from there. The knights had spewed words Merlin had never thought he’d hear from them, and they had been enchanted, but in the back of his mind Merlin wondered if that was how they actually felt.

The divide had grown over the months as Elyan was possessed and only Arthur stepped in to stop Elyan from almost murdering Merlin on the training grounds, and not a single knight said a word in his defense as he was accused of poisoning the king.

Except for Arthur’s awkward and stilted apology, there had been no mention or acknowledgment of the event, no apologies from the knights, no comment that it had ever happened. Merlin’s hurt grew.

It grew, and it grew, until he wondered if they even saw him as anything beyond Arthur’s servant. Wondered if he had been delusional to think they had ever seen him as a friend.

Gwaine used to sit with him while he did chores, or polished boots right beside him, but as he was accepted into the folds of knighthood, Merlin was replaced with the nobles Gwaine had always claimed he hated.

Percival used to sit with Lancelot and Merlin when Merlin was down by the laundry lines, hanging Arthur’s clothes out to dry. They would talk, and joke, and enjoy each other’s company.

After Lancelot died, Percival stopped coming. At first, Merlin thought it was because it was a painful reminder after Lancelot’s death, but as the months dragged on, Merlin realized it was because he was never the one that Percival had wanted to visit.

When Elyan was first knighted, he and Merlin would sit in the armory for hours, sharing tales of their adventures while they polished chainmail and sharpened swords.

As Elyan grew more comfortable with his noble title and all that entailed, he began to ask the servant assigned to maintain the knights’ armor to cover the duty, at first occasionally, and then more and more until it was a bizarre sight to see him doing it himself.

Merlin had naively hoped he would still come down and talk, but after weeks of lonely hours polishing, he resigned himself to dropping polishing back to one of his least favorite things to do, talks with Elyan the only reason it had ranked higher.

Leon had been the one to teach Merlin to ride, and at first, as they went out on patrols, he would make sure he rode nearby to note corrections and tips.

As Merlin got better, Leon talked more than he taught, telling Merlin what it was like to live in the castle with Arthur and Morgana as children, and how he had been childhood friends with Gwen.

Merlin had loved it. He had loved the talks, the quiet, steady friendship, but as more knights were added to Arthur’s trusted few, the further away Leon rode, at first keeping an eye on the new additions, and then being pulled into the bantering, joking exchanges the knights of the round table favored until Merlin had abruptly realized that Leon didn’t talk to him on patrols anymore beyond asking when the food would be done.

The realization had stung, but he had buried himself in the mission of protecting Arthur, and drifted even further away from them all.

He swallowed hard, wondering if it was always going to happen as they were accepted into the groups of people they actually wanted to spend time with, or if he could have kept them if he had just tried harder.

He stood, walking further in an attempt to escape the thought, and reluctantly noticed it was getting dark. The sun was setting, and if he didn’t find a stream and some food, he would be hungry and thirsty as well as cold and hurt as the night set in.

He hadn’t studied the map of the route with the intensity he usually did, preoccupied by the magic he would have to do directly in front of the king of Camelot, and distracted by the rush of organizing the pieces that would need to fit together for them to be successful.

Usually he knew where the surrounding rivers and streams were, but in his rush to get everything done, he hadn’t looked beyond the route itself they planned to take.

He sighed, finally admitting it was growing too dark, even if he risked being caught and used his magic to light the way, and turned his attention to finding a place to make camp for the night. Not that there was any camp to make. He had no food, no canteen, no bedroll, and no blankets.

He found a flat patch of ground and tiredly gathered moss and leaves to use as insulation between himself and the cold earth, and collapsed onto his make-shift mattress, the full weight of his sadness sinking back in as he was no longer able to distract himself with the journey.

He was hurt, thirsty, hungry, injured, and cold, but it wasn’t cold enough to freeze him, and his injury wasn’t severe enough to risk death. He had gone longer with an empty stomach, and he could last at least three days without water.

It would take two days for the rest of them to get back. Gaius would realize when Merlin didn’t go to his room for the night that he was missing, and he would raise the alarm.

Arthur would begrudgingly agree that his idiot of a servant couldn’t survive without rescue, and would ride out at first light, getting to him in about a day’s ride as he kept walking toward Camelot.

He could hold out for three days. Luckily, it was not a longer journey back, because three days was pushing Merlin’s limits, but he could survive for three days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I'd love to hear what you think!


	2. Today We Rise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the amazingly kind comments and kudos!!! 
> 
> I have this entire story written out, but I still need to go through and edit each of the chapters. The next two chapters are already pretty well edited, so it probably won’t take me very long to get them up, but it might be closer to a week between updates around chapter 4, depending on how late work keeps me. 
> 
> As a side note, the chapter titles come from song titles from the show ‘Galavant’ which I’ve linked to Merlin in my brain because it’s set in the middle ages and I’m mildly obsessed with it at the moment. The chapter doesn’t necessarily match the song’s ‘plot’, but I chose it just because the title works for my chapter title. 
> 
> If you haven’t seen Galavant, I highly recommend it, but just know that like most shows, it doesn’t get really good until the third or fourth episode. It’s a knight’s adventure set in the middle ages, and it’s kind of a comedy, kind of an adventure show with lots of singing. My sister got me into it because the man who plays Detective Lassiter in Psych and Cain in Supernatural plays a main character, and he’s hilarious.

A week later, Gaius worriedly strode into the entrance hall of the castle, on his way to the king’s chambers when he found Arthur talking to his favored knights, all smiling and laughing brightly.

“Sire,” he called, securing the king’s attention as he hurried over. “Sire, have you seen Merlin?”

Arthur snorted and shook his head.

“I’d check the tavern,” he chuckled, unconcerned. “He’s skived off work for days now.”

The knights behind him sniggered, but Gaius stared at him in horror.

“Sire, Merlin’s bed hasn’t been slept in,” Gaius told him, urgent and worried. “I’ve been staying in the lower towns for a difficult birth, I came back today, and I don’t think Merlin has been home in days.”

The king and knights sobered, but didn’t immediately sink into the same panic he had.

“Well, I’m sure he’s -,” Arthur started to say before Gaius cut over him with none of the propriety he normally showed.

“Was he hurt when you all came back to Camelot?” he asked, direct and to the point, his fear making it slightly sharper than he had intended, and Arthur looked taken aback.

A look of confusion grew on Arthur’s face as he thought about the question.

"He...," Arthur started, trailing off with an expression of stunned horror on his face.

"He what, sire?" Gaius asked anxiously, glancing between the king and the knights.

Arthur swallowed hard, trying to find any way he could explain the situation without it sounding as terrible as it did in his head.

"He... he didn't exactly travel back to Camelot with us," Arthur admitted, trying not to shrink back from the fury growing on Gaius’ face. "We -, er, got separated, and I needed to get Guinevere back to the castle, you see, and in all the exci-, in trying to explain to her what had happened, we... um..."

"You _forgot_ my ward?” Gaius asked in a deadly tone.

Arthur stared at him, eyes wide and stunned, and Gaius’ expression grew darker. He looked past the speechless king to the knights behind him, who were all sending some degree of disapproving looks at Arthur.

“None of you?” Gaius asked, his voice cracking through the complete silence of the hall. “Merlin has been missing for a week, and not a single one of you noticed?”

The knights looked like they’d been struck, disapproval falling off their faces to be replaced with shame.

Gaius let the silence hang as he visibly tried to breathe through his fury.

“I seem to have overestimated his importance to you all,” he said softly, though they all heard him clearly in the quiet hall.

“Fine,” he waved a hand dismissively, not bothering to hide his anger. “Fine, if you will not protect the ward I entrusted to you under the promise you would keep him safe, I will find him.”

As he finished, the doors to the castle opened and Merlin strode in, looking angry and tired as he marched across the entryway without acknowledging Arthur, Gaius, or any of the knights.

Arthur’s embarrassed shame transformed into to anger as he concluded Merlin’s arrival was supporting evidence for his original claim, and he had suffered through a lecture for nothing.

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur snapped, his annoyance evident, and Merlin stopped short to face him. “You’ve missed work for a week!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Merlin spat, “I had to walk because you gave Gwen my horse.”

Arthur’s expression froze, stunned shock replacing frustration as he stared at his angry manservant. Even in the midst of Gaius’ lecture, he hadn’t connected that the horse Guinevere rode back on had been Merlin’s.

Merlin tried to shoulder past him, but Arthur reached out, feeling vaguely disconnected from his body, and grabbed Merlin’s shoulder, spinning him back to face his king.

“What?” Merlin demanded, eyes hard and flinty in a way Arthur had never seen them before.

Arthur was distantly aware of his knights going completely still at the sight, but Merlin didn’t seem to notice, glaring at Arthur with a ferocity that shocked him.

“I -,” Arthur tried to concentrate through his shock and push out an apology. “I -, when I got Guinevere back, I -, I wasn’t thinking about -,”

“Me,” Merlin supplied, sharp and brittle.

Arthur snapped his mouth shut, recognizing in retrospect how much worse he had just made the situation as the anger in Merlin’s expression flared.

“Yes, thank you, _sire_ ,” Merlin responded to the non-verbal confirmation, somehow able to make Arthur’s title sound like a mortal insult. “I’m quite aware you forgot about me. I know that even though I researched and read and studied for _days_ until _I_ found a way to save your wife, you forgot about me.

I know that even though there were wyvern, and sorceresses, treacherous rocks, and _Morgana_ , you forgot about me.

Even though I had fallen less than a day before you sent me off alone to find a sorceress you knew nothing about, you forgot about me.

Even though I have been by your side for almost _ten years_ , you forgot about me!

It’s fine,” Merlin said, his eyes boring into Arthur where he stood rooted to the floor, unable to move under the barrage of anger Merlin fired at him. “I didn’t expect anyone except Gaius to notice I was gone. It’s fine, I’m just a servant.”

The silence after his statement felt deadly as Arthur absorbed what he had done, but Merlin went on before he could formulate a response.

“If you lost Gwen, though,” Merlin continued in that same hard, icy tone, “you would lose everything, so what is there to remember once you had her back?

I understand she is your wife, and you rightfully adore her, but if she is _everything_ , then your knights, your people, and _your servants_ are nothing.

You had your everything back, _sire_ , and I have more masters to answer to than just you, _my lord_. I’m sure you can find someone else to clean your floors while I’m gone, and you’ll no doubt be happier with their work.

Gaius needed herbs, I was passing by them on foot anyway, and Gaius at least appreciates my efforts.

Gaius does not drag me into dangerous situations, sacrifice me, and then _forget_ me.

Gaius does not ask me to research everything, gather all of the supplies, do _everything_ that needed to be done including getting Gwen dosed and out of the castle, carry everything for two days journey, brush off a fall that gouged my leg and left me unconscious, be the _only_ one who knew what the sorceress wanted let alone where to find her, be a willing hostage so he can get his _everything_ back, and then walk home because despite the fact that I was the most injured person in the party, he forgot about me.

You could have at least had the decency to forget a bag of provisions and a bed roll along with your servant, _your highness_.”

“I’m -, Merlin, I’m -, what can I do?”

“Just ignore it like you do everything else,” Merlin snapped. “I’ll get some sleep and get over it, just like always.”

“Always?” Arthur whispered, sounding devastated. Merlin met his gaze without mercy.

“Yeah,” he said firmly. “Always.”

At Arthur’s look of horrified confusion, he went on in the same hard tone that no one in the room had ever heard from him before.

“Why was it not immediately apparent to everyone in the entire kingdom that there was something wrong with her when she sent me to the dungeons for poisoning you?

There was not a word of defense spoken by anyone, except after the fact to say that I am _too stupid_ to plan an assassination attempt. Why did no one, royal, knight, or otherwise, have any protests that I would never have done that?

Why did you trust her over me so implicitly as I denied it when she told you I blew off serving you for two days because I was seeing a _girl_? When have I _ever_ done that? I _told you_ I wasn’t, but what is the word of a servant against the word of a queen?

When has my word _ever_ been enough for you? No matter how many times I tell you things, you don’t believe me without proof! I’m right _every time_ but I’m still just a _servant_ that has to have _proof_ before you take ANYTHING I SAY SERIOUSLY!”

“That’s not fair,” Arthur croaked, flinching back slightly at the anger in Merlin’s tone.

“Oh, it isn’t?” Merlin asked, no longer yelling, but his furious tone sent a shiver down Arthur’s spine. “Don’t kill a unicorn, Arthur. Valiant has snakes in his shield, Arthur. Don’t court Sophia, Arthur.

Don’t trust Cedric, Arthur. Lady Catrina is a troll, Arthur. The witch finder is evil, Arthur. Don’t court Lady Vivian, Arthur.

We shouldn’t ride through the Valley of the Fallen Kings, Arthur. Don’t go on _that_ quest by yourself, Arthur. Don’t blow the horn, Arthur.

Elyan is possessed, Arthur. Gaius was kidnapped, Arthur. Agravaine is betraying you, Arthur. There’s something off about Mithian and Hilda, Arthur.

There’s something wrong with Gwen, Arthur. Would you like me to go on?”

Arthur’s mouth clicked shut and he swallowed hard.

“I was the _only_ person in all of Camelot to notice she’d been enchanted,” Merlin spat, “you’d think that would at least earn a blanket for the walk back.”

“Merlin...,” Arthur said, trailing off as words failed him.

“Just leave me alone,” the servant snapped, expression darkening even further. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“I’m the king of Camelot,” Arthur joked weakly, hoping he could spark some of their usual banter.

“Then bloody banish me,” Merlin bit out, “because I don’t want to talk to you right now, Arthur!”

He shot Arthur and the knights one more scathing glare before he stormed out of the hall, obviously limping.

“Gaius, can you fix this?” Arthur asked, not bothering to cover up his desperation.

Gaius’ eyes flared angrily, but his tone didn’t betray his frustration.

“I was not the one who forgot him, _sire_ ,” he said pointedly. “Perhaps, he needs proof you will remember?

A shattered heart is best mended by the one who broke it, but if you consider this too inconsequential a duty, I will do my best.”

“It’s not inconsequential,” Arthur defended weakly, “I’m just ...”

“Afraid,” Gaius said bluntly, doing nothing to soften the statement.

Arthur pressed his lips together but didn’t dispute the words.

“Then I suggest you find some courage, my lord, and fix what you broke,” Gaius told him without sympathy.

Arthur looked at him with wide, hurt eyes and Gaius sighed in disappointment, turning to make his way to his quarters with a sad shake of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I'd love to hear what you think! 
> 
> As long as work doesn't demand excessive overtime, I expect to get the next chapter up in the next few days!


	3. Build A New Tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO MUCH for all the comments!!! They were incredibly motivating, so thanks for giving me the drive I needed to get this edited!

Merlin tried to stop crying as he lay curled on his side in his bed, but more and more tears kept flooding out until he was sobbing into his pillow.

It was ridiculous to cry when he had finally dragged himself home, finally warm and safe in his room, finally in a bed instead of the hard ground with no blanket or bedroll, finally able to stay off his throbbing leg. It was ridiculous to cry when his situation had finally been corrected, but a tear had escaped when he had collapsed onto his mattress, and he hadn't been able to stop the sobs since.

He tried to tell himself to stop being pathetic and that he should instead fall asleep for the night, but almost ten minutes later he was still crying when the door to his room quietly opened.

He curled into a tighter ball, ashamed of the tears even though he knew Gaius would never make fun of him.

“I’m sorry, Gaius," he gasped, "I’m being stupid.”

Another sob escaped, and Merlin heard the floorboards creak as Gaius walked across the room, sitting on the edge of the small bed.

“I’m just tired," Merlin tried to explain as still more sobs escaped, "and my leg hurts, and I wish I mattered to more people than just you and mum.”

“I’m sorry, Merlin,” a voice behind him said, soft and sincere, and Merlin tensed as he recognized his master’s, not his mentor’s, voice.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur repeated, genuine in a way Merlin had never heard him before. “I take you for granted, but that doesn’t mean you don’t matter to me.”

Merlin swallowed hard and peeked over his shoulder at his king, hardly daring to believe his own ears.

Arthur was subdued, his expression downcast and shameful, but his tone was earnest.

“I take you for granted in the way I take air for granted,” he admitted to Merlin’s shoulder before he forced himself to raise his eyes to his servant’s face. “I don’t bother to notice how much I need it until it’s gone and I can’t breathe.”

Merlin’s breath hitched, and more tears made their way silently down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said again seriously. “When I say Guinevere is everything, I never mean you are nothing. I ... I didn’t consider you in the estimation when I said that because I take you for granted the way I do the ground beneath my feet.

Sometimes it feels that you are more an extension of myself than anything else, and the option of losing you had never crossed my mind.

In my life, I am everyone’s second choice. I was Guinevere’s second choice to Lancelot, my father’s to Morgana. I’m well aware that the loyalty of Gwaine, Percival, and Lancelot were only earned by proximity to you, Leon’s because of my crown, and Elyan’s through proximity to Guinevere.

I feel that I need to put in effort to keep these people, because they are important to me, and I need to continually work to ensure I don’t lose them to their first choice or slip even further down their list.

I was so assured in your loyalty to me that I let myself discount your actions because, for reasons I cannot fathom, I have always been your first choice, and I never should have taken that for granted.

You matter to me more than words can express, and I would be devastated if I lost you. I’m sorry I made you doubt that, even for a second.”

Merlin swallowed hard, more tears tracking down his cheeks at the apology.

“Does that mean I’ll finally get my hug?” Merlin asked wetly to break the tension, signaling Arthur that they could slide into their usual banter.

Arthur surprised him, though, giving a single firm nod, taking a deep breath, and then reaching forward to pull Merlin up in one swift motion and rearrange him so he sprawled across Arthur’s front.

Merlin sat in stunned shock for a moment before he melted into the hug, squeezing Arthur tightly as he burrowed into his shoulder, more tears escaping into Arthur’s tunic.

“What I did was inexcusable, and I’m sorry," Arthur murmured seriously into Merlin's hair. "It will never happen again, I swear.

Merlin, though I have let my actions betray this, you have been, and will always be, my first choice.”

Merlin sobbed into Arthur’s shoulder at hearing the confirmation he’d so desperately longed to hear for years.

Arthur hugged him tighter, and even as Merlin fell apart, he felt like his heart had finally been put back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry to everyone who didn't want Merlin to forgive them, hopefully it will be enough of a consolation that they all change their ways and act better?


	4. Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your kind comments! 💙

“Hey, Gaius,” Sir Gwaine greeted softly, the others raising hands in greeting as well as all of the round table knights poured into the room.

“We wanted to check on Merlin,” he answered Gaius’ questioning look. “We figured we’d given you enough time to talk to him by now.”

Gaius’ face softened into a smile and he stood from the bench.

“I didn’t speak to him,” he admitted. “I was called away on emergency until the last bell toll.

The room was silent by the time I got back, and Merlin looked like he was exhausted, so I let him sleep.”

Gaius smiled at the disappointed looks he received.

“I do need to dress his wound, though, if at least one of you wouldn’t mind staying to assist?”

He shoved down a chuckle as they all nodded eagerly, following him to the stairs.

Gaius quietly made his way to Merlin’s room, silently swinging the door open, but stopped before he fully made it across the room as he caught sight of his ward on the bed. His ward who was wrapped in a hug from Arthur, both boys asleep, Arthur’s golden head resting on Merlin’s dark hair.

Gaius took a moment to look at the pair, tension in his shoulders easing as he breathed out his frustration that had been sitting in his chest since he first confronted Arthur over his ward’s whereabouts.

He knew Arthur was a good man and cared about his servant, Gaius had said as much to Merlin on several occasions, but he had feared that Arthur’s wounded pride and inexperience in apologizing would keep him from making things right. Gaius was glad to see he had misjudged his king.

From what little he could see of his ward’s face, Merlin’s cheeks were flushed and tear stained, but he did not look like the fever of infection had taken hold. What he truly needed was sleep, and Gaius would leave him to it until morning.

He turned back to the door, amusement growing at the look of affectionate approval on all of the knights’ faces, and he flapped a silent hand at them to indicate they should return to the main room instead of waking up the pair.

With another round of fond looks at the sleeping men, the knights agreed, traipsing back down the stairs with as much stealth and subtly as they were capable of.

"Well," Sir Gwaine said quietly when they had all returned to the main room, "I guess I won't have to throw down my gauntlet tomorrow after all."

Gaius and the other knights huffed soft laughs.

Gaius moved to re-take his previous seat at his workbench, still shaking his head in amusement. He had no doubt the knight truly would have challenged Arthur if he hadn't seen proof that Arthur had already set about fixing the situation without violent prompting.

Gaius looked up, cocking an eyebrow at the knights when they all took seats around the room rather than exiting the chamber.

"Can I help you with anything, sir knights?" Gaius asked, vaguely amused as he watched the four men blush and fidget as they tried to come up with an answer.

"Well," Sir Leon started, sounding awkward and hesitant. "Are... are you sure Merlin will be alright? He was limping rather badly, and he did say his leg had been _gouged_."

Gaius' expression fell into a fondly reassuring smile as he nodded.

"I may not have been able to treat the leg,” he told them knowingly, “but I was close enough to do an initial assessment of Merlin's health, and it will hold until morning."

"Are you sure?" Sir Elyan asked, his voice smaller then Gaius had ever heard it. Normally Sir Elyan brimmed with a quiet confidence, but it seemed to have deserted him as he stared at Gaius with wide, scared eyes. "It's just -, it's just that infections -, well, I know you know infections can get worse extremely quickly, but what if you wait until morning and it is too late and he -,"

Gaius raised a hand and cut off the panicked ramblings with a shake of his head.

"I am sure," he told Sir Elyan in a fondly reassuring tone. "I have been a physician for longer than you have been alive, Sir Elyan. I would not risk my ward's health if I thought there was the slightest chance an infection would spiral out of hand in the night."

The knights relaxed slightly as they nodded their acceptance.

"It is not that we doubt your abilities," Sir Percival said, his deep, quiet voice vaguely sheepish. "It's just... we worry."

Gaius smiled his understanding and picked up a knife and bundle of herbs.

"I know," he assured the large knight. "Merlin will be alright."

Gaius turned his attention to the herbs he was preparing for a long minute before he looked up again to study the knights.

“You’re pensive tonight,” Gaius commented to Sir Gwaine, who had been noticeably quiet, especially considering the fact Gaius usually had difficultly fitting in a word edgewise around the talkative knight.

Gwaine glanced up from where he had been staring deeply into the fire, studying Gaius’ face for a moment before dropping his eyes back to the hearth.

“He wasn’t even mad at us for not noticing, he said he never expected anyone but you to notice,” Gwaine said quietly, his voice serious and sad in a way Gaius had never heard it before.

Around the room, the other knights flinched at the reminder, but Sir Gwaine didn’t look away from the burning logs.

Silence stretched on as Gaius tried to find a response, but Sir Gwaine continued before he could settle on an answer.

“There was a time I would have noticed Merlin’s absence the second Arthur came through the citadel gates. He was gone for a _week_ and I _didn’t notice_.”

Gaius’ expression softened at the self-recrimination, looking around the room to see the same guilt reflected in the other men’s faces as well.

“Well,” Gaius said, picking up herbs to prepare but keeping the knights in his peripheral vision. “Perhaps it was just an odd week, when do you normally talk to him?”

Gaius made sure to keep his tone light and conversational, confident his words would drive his point home firmly enough on their own. He let his eyes flick up to study their reactions, pleased to see they had realized the point he was trying to make, each wearing a vaguely horrified expression on their face.

“There are many things that cause lapses in communication,” he commented idly, not looking to punish them, but needing to ensure they understood just how often they disregarded his ward.

Merlin had never complained about it of course, his boy rarely complained about anything that really hurt him, but Gaius had watched him wilt over the past few months, withdrawing into himself more and more by the day, and Gaius was determined to seize the chance he had been presented in educating his ward’s closest friends in the importance of openly valuing Merlin.

Gaius let his previous statement hang for a moment before he went on, tying the sprigs of chamomile in tight bundles for drying.

“Perhaps if you think back to the last time you had a meaningful conversation with him, you’ll find the answer to when you lost track of him?” he suggested helpfully, nothing in his tone indicating that he had already thought long and hard about each of the men’s deteriorating relationship with his boy and come to his own conclusions about when the rift had started.

Merlin had pointedly and repeatedly refused to let him report to Arthur the full damage the Lamia inflicted, and Gaius had considered reporting it anyway more than once, but he knew that Merlin could not take one more betrayal, and that is exactly what he would see the action as.

He would lose Merlin’s trust and confidence, and his ward had no one else beside the dragon with whom he could really speak about the tremendous difficulties he faced on a daily basis.

When he looked up, the knights’ expressions had become even more horrified as they struggled to find their last real interaction with Merlin.

Gaius felt his long-simmering frustration start to cool as he studied them and found that Gwaine was silently shedding tears over his realization, and the rest of them didn’t look far behind.

“If you have found the problem, then there is nothing else you can do tonight,” Gaius told them gently, smiling softly when four sets of wide eyes turned to him.

“There is very little in this world that is truly unfixable, sir knights,” Gaius said, feeling his age as the men looked to him like frightened children, desperate for reassurance that the situation was not a catastrophe beyond salvaging. “I think you’ll find that with some time and attention, you will be able to repair any damage done.”

“Is there truly nothing we can do to start fixing this tonight?” Gwaine asked in a small voice, and the last of Gaius’ anger fell away.

“Tomorrow there would be things to do if you are willing,” Gaius offered, smiling warmly when all four men emphatically nodded. “I suspect his leg will keep him bedridden for the day, so if you could bring some food, I would appreciate it.

He hasn’t eaten a full meal in days, so it will need to be a type of broth or stew, something light and easy on the stomach.”

The knights nodded their understanding.

“We will bring some when the clock tolls midday,” Gwaine promised in a serious tone. “Unless we should bring it before?”

Gaius shook his head fondly.

“Midday will be perfect,” he said, gathering all of the bundles he had tied and hanging them from a length of twine that hung down the side of the shelf.

“If any of you have time,” he said, returning to his seat with the next batch of herbs to prepare, “I would appreciate it if you stayed with him while I made my daily rounds.

I have found that he is an exceptionally bad patient, and generally only stays in the sickbed as ordered if someone is in the room to make him.

It is not dire, though, if you have duties to the court it is not a necessity to the point of negating other duties.”

“We’ll be here,” Elyan said firmly, the other knights nodding around him.

“Thank you,” Gaius said, setting a bundle of tied leaves to the side and reaching for the next set to prepare. “Then I suppose the only thing left to do tonight is to inform the queen her husband may or may not be coming to his room tonight, and if she would please not raise an alarm if he is missing in the morning, it would be appreciated.”

“We will tell her,” Percival vowed far more seriously than such a request warranted, and Gaius nodded his thanks.

“Excellent, then I will see you gentlemen tomorrow,” he said in an affectionate, but clear, dismissal, and they took their cue, standing from their seats and making their way to the door, waving goodnight to him as they left.

Gaius smiled to himself as the door clicked shut, turning his attention to the herbs with a feeling of pleased accomplishment, grateful that he had been granted the opportunity to alert the knights to the damage they were doing to their bonds with Merlin, and equally pleased they had reacted the way they had.

He worked quietly for another half hour, but as he finished with the bay leaves, the door to his chambers creaked open again, and he looked up in surprise.

He cocked an eyebrow and Sir Gwaine looked slightly sheepish, but he came further inside anyway and softly shut the door behind him.

“Gwen asked if I could bring this,” he explained in a low voice, holding up a thick, blue blanket. “She didn’t think the blanket Merlin had would be big enough for both of them, and didn’t want them freezing overnight.”

Gaius chuckled fondly and nodded his acceptance when Gwaine looked to the stairs then back to Gaius, clearly asking if he should deliver it himself or leave it for Gaius.

“Go on,” Gaius told him with another huff of amusement. “My knees are not as young as they once were.”

Gwaine sent him a blinding smile and turned to the doorway with no further prompting, quietly disappearing behind the door to Merlin’s room for a few moments before he crept back down to the main room.

“I will see you tomorrow,” Gwaine said in a near whisper, nodding his head in farewell as he made his way back to the door, and Gaius returned the nod with a bemused smile.

“I will see you tomorrow, Sir Gwaine,” he confirmed, and Gwaine sent him one more hopeful smile before he disappeared out the door.

Gaius rolled his eyes as he hauled himself up from his workbench and began his nightly routine. He had stayed up longer than he meant to, and there was no telling what the next day would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I’d love to hear what you think!


	5. Moments In The Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the amazing comments! I *love* them!

Merlin was floating on the edge of consciousness, feeling warm and safe and comfortable, which of course, was the cue for his pillow to try to escape.

Merlin’s brow furrowed but he didn’t open his eyes as he thought about that. His pillow was... escaping?

That wasn’t what generally happened, but it was undeniable that he had just been rearranged onto something significantly less warm and comfortable.

He considered summoning the effort to pry his heavy eyelids open, but just as he was mustering the energy, a thick, warm blanket draped over him, and he decided that even if it wasn’t quite as comfortable as before, it was still warm and cozy, so perhaps he could consider the mystery of the fleeing pillow with his eyes shut after all.

A hand carded through his hair, and Merlin suddenly remembered that Arthur had been present when he fell asleep, maybe he was still present as he woke.

How typical that Merlin had slept hundreds of nights in his bed and his pillow had never fled while he was using it, but as soon as Arthur was present it was suddenly able to independently retreat. Maybe a sorcerer trying to kill Arthur had enchanted it?

Before he could fully consider that possibility, his master interrupted his train of thought.

“Sleep, Merlin,” Arthur’s voice murmured, calm and soothing, and Merlin let himself be lulled back into the darkness.

~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~

Merlin did not stay asleep for long, his hunger and thirst driving him to open his eyes not long after both Arthur and his pillow had left.

He blinked in confusion for a moment at the pillow that his head was on, but was quickly distracted by the thick, soft blanket covering him.

He knew the blanket, he realized, sitting up and rubbing his hands over the soft folds.

It was Arthur’s, from his chambers. He used it on cold nights when he sat in front of his fireplace and read or thought, preferring it over the large bedspread that got in the way as it draped over both sides of the chair and onto the floor.

Merlin finally hauled himself to his feet, almost losing his footing as a bolt of pain shot through his leg, but he pushed past it, folding the blanket neatly and setting it on the edge of the bed, hoping he remembered to bring it to Arthur’s chambers later when he left to serve him for the day.

He opened his door and made his way down the stairs, surprised to find his master still there, quietly talking to Gaius, both looking up when they heard his door swing shut behind him.

“I told you to sleep, Merlin,” Arthur told him in fond exasperation. “Don’t you ever do as you’re told?”

Merlin smiled at him, bright and cheerful in the light of the new day.

“Nope!” he chirped, limping down the stairs, trying to loosen up his leg that had tightened and stiffened overnight.

He sat heavily in the chair next to the table, only then noticing that his mentor and master had watched his journey from his room with worried eyes.

“So, council meeting today?” he asked, trying to distract the pair long enough to wipe the concerned expressions off their faces. “Want me to get you dressed or get you breakfast first?”

Gaius opened his mouth to say something, but Arthur cut him off without noticing, his eyes studying Merlin’s face before they flicked down to his leg as he answered.

“You’re hurt, I will suffer through George for the day,” he announced, and Merlin stared at him, taken aback.

It was no secret how much Arthur disliked being waited on by George, particularly on days with council meetings, and Merlin wasn’t _that_ hurt.

Gaius broke the surprised silence before Merlin could think of anything to say.

“Thank you, sire,” he said, turning to Arthur. “I need to examine his leg, but I suspect he will need to stay off of it for at least the day, if not several.”

Merlin opened his mouth to protest, but Arthur was already nodding seriously to the physician.

“I understand,” he said, and Merlin’s brow furrowed as he stared at his master. “If you wouldn’t mind sending word after you have examined him as to when I can expect him back on duty, I would appreciate it.”

“I will, sire,” Gaius promised.

He turned to his slightly gaping ward and fixed him with a firm look.

“And _you_ ,” he said firmly, “will drink the tea I make you and then stay in bed for the day.”

“Gaius,” Merlin whined, already feeling himself chafe at the idea of being confined to a bed all day when he could be _doing_ something, _should_ be doing something. It wasn’t like he was actually that injured.

He had walked back to Camelot, after all, and even though so much as straightening his leg sent bolts of pain through it, it wasn’t like he hadn’t worked harder through worse.

“Merlin,” Gaius warned in the firm, serious voice he rarely had to use on his ward, and Merlin subsided reluctantly, conceding a petulant defeat as Gaius quirked a smile and stood, moving to the counter behind him to start brewing the tea.

“I’m fine,” Merlin muttered. “My stomach is really not that bad, Gaius.”

His mentor cocked an eyebrow at him over his shoulder, but didn’t immediately grace him with a response.

“Hmm,” he hummed eventually, stirring the tea leaves into the hot water. “So you ate what exactly while you were gone?” he asked innocently, and Merlin glared at him.

“I had some berries,” he defended. “And I found almost five handfuls of nuts, and caught three fish! And I had some bay leaves, and dandelion roots.”

“Uh huh,” Gaius acknowledged, unimpressed with his list. “And how many of those within the last two days?”

Merlin glared at him, internally cursing Gaius for knowing enough about the route he would have taken back after getting the tarragon leaves he had collected to know what grew along the way.

His silence was enough of an answer, and Gaius nodded in quiet triumph, secure in his victory, and turned back to the tea.

Merlin rolled his eyes, exasperated with his mentor, and turned to his master instead.

He paused, surprised to see Arthur staring at him with a devastated look on his face.

Merlin wasn’t exactly sure what Arthur had thought he’d eaten in the past week, but evidently it wasn’t that.

He cast his mind around for a subject change, uncomfortable with being the focus of Arthur’s distressed attention.

“How is Gwen?” Merlin asked, thrumming his fingers on the table to try to let some of his jittery energy out.

“She is-,” Arthur paused to clear his throat, his face masking the previous expression, but Merlin could still see the worry and concern underneath. “She is well. She remembers nothing of her time, so there will be no learning of Morgana’s plans, but at least Guinevere is un-enchanted and unharmed.”

Merlin nodded with a pleased grin, some of the tenseness in his shoulders relaxing when he heard his friend would be alright.

“I...” Arthur said, breaking the silence but looking like he didn’t quite know where to go from there. “I have you to thank for that,” he said seriously a moment later, and Merlin blinked at him.

Merlin blinked at him again, not sure what to do with such a statement, and Arthur twitched a hint of a smile at his blatant confusion.

“Thank you,” Arthur said simply, and Merlin’s mouth fell open before it snapped shut with an audible click.

“I appreciate everything you did to save Guinevere,” Arthur went on, his tone serious and earnest and not at all the bantering lilt Merlin was used to. “You did, you saved her.

You were the one who realized she’d been enchanted, you were the one who discovered what the solution was. You found the answer, you knew how to find the sorceress and what she wanted.

You dosed Guinevere, got her out of the castle, monitored her health for the two day ride there, carried our bags, organized our route, helped me defend her when the wyverns and Morgana, and offered yourself willingly as a hostage during the ritual.

I appreciate the tremendous effort you put in, and I truly should say it more often, so thank you.”

Merlin stared at him, having a difficult time convincing himself he had heard correctly.

“I -,” he started after a noticeable delay. “Um -, you’re... welcome, sire?” he eventually managed, sounding more like a question than an absolution, but at least he had landed on the right words.

Arthur smiled, but before he could respond Gaius set a steaming mug of tea in front of Merlin with a definitive _clunk_ , and Merlin looked at it distastefully.

“Drink,” Gaius commanded, unmoved by his ward’s aversion.

“But -,” Merlin started before Gaius cut him off.

“ _Drink_ ,” he ordered in a voice that would not be disobeyed, and Merlin reluctantly reached forward to take a sip.

The taste was... not as horrible as some of Gaius’ remedies, but it wasn’t exactly delicious, either.

Gaius often kept spare buckets under the table to sweep the portions of ingredients he couldn’t use into without having to get up, and Merlin subtly glanced down to see if there was one conveniently at his feet to pour the tea into.

He looked up when he noticed the silence, finding his master bemused, and his mentor definitively not.

“Drink,” Gaius ordered again, narrowing his eyes slightly, and Merlin sighed, resigning himself having to actually consume the concoction.

~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~

Arthur watched his servant sip at the rather foul smelling tea in amusement. Watching Merlin’s non-verbal whining was always hilarious, but after a few moments his thoughts turned back to the previous day.

Gaius wandered into the back storeroom once he was assured his ward would actually drink the remedy, and Arthur let the silence hang for another long minute while he mustered his courage.

“So,” Arthur started, feeling uncharacteristically hesitant, and Merlin gave him his full attention. “Um, you mentioned that Guinevere lied when she was under the enchantment. If you were not seeing a girl, where were you?”

“Oh,” Merlin said with a grin, relaxing noticeably as he realized the hesitance was because Arthur wasn’t sure if he would re-spark Merlin’s anger, not because it was something that had happened while he was away that would be difficult to hear. “I was out of the castle, someone asked me to heal their sister.”

Arthur blinked, taken aback.

“Oh,” he said simply before his brow furrowed as he considered the statement. “She was so sick it took multiple days? Why did you not alert the steward to send another servant to attend me?”

“Oh, no,” Merlin shook his head, pausing to sip some more of his tea, “it was a trap by Morgana to poison me.”

He shrugged lightly, turning back to his tea to take another sip, and Arthur stared at him, stunned.

“What?” he gasped, catching his servant’s attention, and Merlin looked back up at him in concern. “What do you mean -, she -, what? _Explain_.”

Merlin watched him with worried eyes, as if _Arthur_ were the one to be worried about.

His servant had been _poisoned_ , and he _hadn’t noticed_.

The room spun slightly, but he forced himself to take a breath and send Merlin a pointed look, finally spurring him into an explanation.

“Well,” Merlin said slowly, still watching Arthur carefully, “she sent this boy, Daegel, to find me in Camelot. He told me of his sick and dying sister, how she was all he had left.

She was far outside the city limits, and they certainly couldn’t afford a _royal_ physician, but he had heard that I may be able to help.

Sometimes I offer my services as a physician’s apprentice to the townspeople that cannot afford Gaius’ care,” Merlin shrugged at his master in explanation when he saw the questioning look, and Arthur’s mouth dropped open slightly in shock.

How little attention did he pay to his servant that he hadn’t noticed the man was a practicing physician?

“Anyway,” Merlin said, pulling his tea closer to him and taking another drink, “I was going to help his sister, it wasn’t supposed to take more than a few hours.

I got up and left before dawn. I thought I’d be there and back before you had to get ready to greet Sarrum.

We had walked several hours when we finally got there, but it turned out that Daegel didn’t have a sister, he had been bribed by Morgana to fetch me and bring me to the forest.”

“You?” Arthur asked, unable to completely hide his disbelieving confusion. “Why would she want to lure _you_ out of the castle and kill you?”

Merlin shrugged and quirked a rueful smile.

“I mean, I’m not exactly her favorite person,” he offered wryly, much more amused by his answer than Arthur was. “That, and Gwen realized I suspected her, and she and Morgana had been meeting up in the woods and sending letters and whatnot. She must have told Morgana, and Morgana decided I was too big a risk to her plan.”

Arthur stared at him for another long moment, trying to wrap his mind around just how long Merlin had known what he had been too blind to see.

“So, he led you to Morgana,” he prompted. “Should I execute him?”

He meant it to come off as a joke to lighten the atmosphere, but Merlin quirked a knowing smile, apparently having realized it was a legitimate question.

“No,” Merlin said with a shake of his head. “We’ll get to that. Morgana was there, she monologued for a minute.

Obviously, I’m no match for her, it wasn’t difficult to knock me down and force the poison down my throat.”

He said it casually, but Arthur had never heard a more horrifying sentence in all his life.

He had been yelling at Gaius about his _shirt_ and his servant had been _dying_.

Merlin continued after another drink of tea, and pulled Athur’s thoughts back to the conversation.

“It was distinctly not fun,” he said, flapping a careless hand to illustrate his point, and Arthur felt like he might vomit. “Daegel had run off as soon as Morgana showed up, but apparently he had accidentally decided he liked me when I was nice to him on the way out, so he came back the next day.”

“The next day?” Arthur repeated in a horrified whisper.

Merlin didn’t seem to share his horror, and gave a light nod to answer Arthur’s question.

“Yeah,” Merlin answered, as if he hadn’t just confirmed that he had laid in the woods and suffered for _hours_. “Belladonna’s a slow killer, which worked out in my favor, but I didn’t really appreciate it at the time.

That night was extremely unpleasant, but Daegel came back. He actually had to convince me he came back to help,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes at himself, “as if there were anything he could have done that would have made the situation worse.”

“He could have killed you,” Arthur pointed out, his voice sharp and brittle, but Merlin just shrugged and took another sip.

“Well, yeah,” Merlin agreed, “but at the time, a quick death sounded like an improvement.”

He said it so matter-of-factly that it took a beat for it to fully sink in.

His servant had been in so much pain that he had _wished_ for death. His servant who defined the word optimism, who had never given up on anything in his life no matter how dire the situation, had _wished_ for death.

His stomach jolted and clenched, and Arthur wondered distantly if he would ever eat again. At the moment, just breathing seemed like a feat that may be slightly out of his grasp, but Merlin went on, as if he weren’t utterly destroying Arthur’s world with a few short sentences.

“So he came back,” Merlin said, picking the story back up, “and he convinced me he was there to help. I told him how to make the antidote, and he did and gave it to me.

It took a few more hours for it to noticeably help, and then we headed back to Camelot as fast as we could.

From the monologuing, we knew Sarrum had an assassin in place for the signing, but we got held up outrunning some bandits, so we barely made it in time.”

Merlin’s eyes dropped to his cup, studying it sadly, and Arthur vaguely remembered the fact that a peasant boy he didn’t know had suffered a mortal wound in the fight to prevent Sarrum’s assassination attempt.

At the time, Guinevere had deftly redirected all questions he had regarding the matter, and it had slipped to the back of his mind under everything else he needed to keep track of.

“He… Daegel outran me,” Merlin admitted without looking up. “I was… struggling, and he beat me up the stairs to where we knew the assassin was. Daegael… he -, he stopped the man, but before the assassin died, he turned and shot him in the chest.”

Arthur’s chest tightened with the realization that if the boy hadn’t, Merlin would have been the one who burst through the door into the hallway, and Merlin would have been the one that ended up with an arrow in his chest, and his body in the ground.

“So, yeah,” Merlin finished, slightly awkwardly, visibly trying to pull himself out of the morose mood he had sunk into. “I told Gaius what happened and he wrapped my leg for me, and then I went to serve you dinner. The end.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur croaked, too horrified to be ashamed of his reaction. “I’m sorry that happened, and I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, and -, and I’m sorry that I _punished_ you for being in the tavern. I -, I -, you seemed sick, and -, and I assumed you went to the tavern after you met with the girl, and you were hung-over.”

Merlin rolled his eyes in long suffering exasperation.

“I am _telling you_ ,” he stressed in fond annoyance, “I am not actually a drunk! The only time I’ve ever actually been to the tavern is when I’m scraping Gwaine off the floor and dragging him home.”

“Then where are you when I think you’re in the tavern?” Arthur asked, confused, and Merlin rolled his eyes again.

“Before I answer that I feel the need to tell you - as a side note, my lord - that my life doesn’t actually revolve around you. I think, perhaps, you might need to be reminded of that every once in a while.”

“Ridiculous,” Arthur scoffed with a hint of a smile.

“You’re ridiculous,” Merlin muttered under his breath before continuing at his usual volume. “Sometimes I’m out collecting herbs, do you know how hard it is to find some of them? Or how far away they grow?

Sometimes I’m treating someone in the lower town, sometimes I get caught up helping another servant with something, and sometimes,” he insisted with a playful haughtiness, “I’m out saving your life.”

Arthur laughed, warm and fond, reaching forward to mess up Merlin’s hair, which earned a squawk of protest.

“Of course you are, Merlin,” he humored him, his smile undeniably affectionate, and Merlin gave a sniff of mock offense, crossing his arms.

Before Merlin could spout off a suitable reply, Gaius returned to the main room, drifting over to the table on his way to the workbench to peer into the mug, casting Merlin a pointed look when he saw several swallows worth of liquid still sitting in the bottom of the cup.

Merlin gave a dramatic eye roll, an emphatic sigh, and then visibly resigned himself to the inevitable and tipped the rest of the contents into his mouth in a few quick swallows, setting it down definitively with a shudder and a displeased glare at Gaius.

The physician wasn't bothered, just quirked an amused smile and gave an approving nod, moving past them without saying a word to settle himself at the workbench with a mortar and pestle.

Arthur didn't bother to suppress his amusement, and his servant sent him a disgruntled look as well for not supplying any sympathy or rescue from the situation.

Arthur let his grin brighten, and Merlin rolled his eyes again in annoyance.

"Arthur, -," Merlin started, but cut himself off when he heard the bell toll.

"Oh," he said, as if reminded of something. "Arthur, you have a council meeting in half an hour. Unless you want to show up in yesterday's shirt and trousers, I guess you need to find George and get him to dress you."

Arthur heaved a put-upon sigh, but reluctantly pushed himself out of his seat.

"Yes, I suppose I do," he conceded, nodding at Merlin and raising a hand in farewell to Gaius before he made his way to the door.

"Oh!" Merlin called, and Arthur paused, turning back to face him. "Don't forget to have George come get your blanket."

Oh. Right. The blanket that Guinevere had sent the previous night, according to Gaius, so they didn't freeze under the meager excuse of a bedspread that Merlin had on his bed.

The fabric of Merlin’s blanket was thinner than Arthur's sheets, and how his manservant hadn't frozen to death three winters ago, Arthur would never know, especially considering the man was all skin and bones.

"Keep it," he brushed off, waving a hand airily and striving to sound unaffected. "It was getting old, and I have been meaning to have it thrown out for weeks now. Either add it to the sheet you call a blanket or give it to the kennel master to make into a bed for my dogs."

Arthur glanced back at his servant and found the man watching him with awestruck eyes, so perhaps his careless delivery had not quite been believed.

A quick look at Gaius revealed a knowing look and pleased smile, and Arthur decided it was time to immediately retreat before either tried to comment on his decision, so with one more nod, he swept out the door and down the hall.

~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~

"Don't let him fool you," Merlin said, slightly bemused, slightly wonder filled, "Arthur loves that blanket."

"Hmm," Gaius hummed in agreement. "I daresay he loves his servant more."

Gaius kept his gaze purposefully on his work, but kept his ward in his peripherals, grinning to himself as Merlin's cheeks flushed and he ducked his head in embarrassment.

"He actually apologized," Merlin told Gaius, his voice low and awed. "With real words. He actually said he was sorry, and gave an actual, real apology. And then he actually said thank you today."

"Good," Gaius said firmly. "It was nothing less than you deserved after this fiasco. You also deserve an apology from me."

Gaius held up a hand to hold off Merlin's denials, and went on.

"I wanted to tell you last night, but you were asleep when I got back and I thought your rest was more important, but I am sorry, Merlin.

I am sorry it took so long for me to notice, I am sorry I did not check that you had made it back safely when I heard the king and queen had returned.

I had assumed that since the party was back you had been successful, but I should have checked. You were depending on me to raise the alert, and I am sorry."

Merlin shook his head, leaning forward earnestly as he met Gaius' eyes.

"Don't be sorry, Gaius," he absolved immediately. "When the prat didn't show up on day three I guessed that Madam Terry must have gone into labor and required you in the lower town for a day or several, I never blamed you. I heard enough coming in to know you were yelling at Arthur for leaving me, and I appreciate that.

There are many people's failings that played a part in the situation, but none of them were yours. I'm truly not mad at you, Gaius, I never was.

I know your knees ache in the winter and the trip from lower town to castle is hard, and not to mention, you were probably needed close by for what was apparently a complicated birth. Are Terry and her baby alright?"

"Thank you, Merlin," Gaius said gratefully, his shoulders lowering in relief that he had been so completely forgiven for what he still viewed as his fault. "And yes, after almost a week of extensive care, Madam Terry and her _babies_ are all doing well."

Merlin's mouth dropped open.

"Babies?" he repeated, flummoxed. "She had twins?"

Gaius smiled at his wide-eyed ward and shook his head.

"Triplets," he told him wryly.

Gaius had thought Merlin's eyes could go no wider, but he was proven incorrect as Merlin stared at him in complete and utter shock.

"Triplets?" he whispered, sounding dazed. "That can happen?"

Gaius nodded once, his smile growing.

"I have seen it only two other times in my entire tenure as physician," he told his gobsmacked ward. "It is not common, and it is even less common that mother and all three children survive, but Madam Terry and her children are all in good health."

"Wow," Merlin muttered. He opened his mouth to continue, but cut himself off with his own wide yawn.

"You, however," Gaius took his cue to pointedly remind the boy, "are not. You have finished the tea instead of pouring it into my castoff buckets, which I appreciate, but now it is time for you to rest."

“I’m not tired,” his ward insisted, sounding more like an exhausted toddler than young man, and pushed down another yawn as he rubbed at his tired eyes to further the comparison.

“Very well,” Gaius allowed graciously. “Then you may read quietly and not distract me, hmm?"

Merlin reluctantly plucked a book from the nearby shelf and shuffled across the room to the patient bed, sitting heavily and pulling the thin blanket over his legs as he settled in to read.

Gaius shook his head to himself when he heard Merlin's soft snores less than a minute later.

One day, the boy would learn to listen to his physician...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a side note, yes, I’m aware that’s not how it went down in the Hollow Queen episode, that’s just his cover to not have to mention anything magic or druid. :)


	6. Oy! What A Knight!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos, and thank you to the incredible commenters, you guys are AMAZING, and I LOVE YOU!

The door swung open, and Gaius and Merlin looked up at the sound.

“Ah, sir knights,” Gaius nodded, standing and moving to gather various vials into his medicine bag. “What did you bring?”

Leon, Elyan, Percival, and Gwaine streamed into the room, and Merlin saw that Gwaine was holding a pot of something, covered by a lid, though it was slightly ajar as a ladle’s handle jutted out the top.

“Beef stew,” Gwaine told Gaius, looking a little anxious as he studied the physician’s reaction. “We didn’t know how much he should have, so we just brought the whole pot.”

Gaius nodded, moving to the cupboard to pull out a bowl and spoon.

“For now one half of a bowl full will suffice,” he said, passing the bowl and spoon to Elyan. “Are you meant to return the pot after taking his portion?”

Percival shook his head, but it was Leon that answered.

“No,” he said, vaguely bemused, “the cook made the entire pot to send when she heard it was for him. We have been instructed to pass along the message, though, that he is being commanded to get well soon because when he is out it messes up her entire kitchen’s schedule, and making him stew does not mean that he can put his grubby hands on her breads.”

Gaius chuckled, but Merlin was still too shocked and confused by what was happening to follow suit, blankly taking the spoon and bowl half full of steaming stew that Elyan pushed into his hands and staring at it.

“Well, go on,” Gaius commanded, lightly swatting him upside the head as he passed by. “Eat it. All of it, Merlin. I will know if you don’t.

I am making my rounds to deliver my remedies, the knights are here to ensure you _stay in the bed_ like you are supposed to.”

“Gaius!” Merlin started to protest, indignant that his mentor had apparently recruited people to watch him as though he were an errant child, but Gaius arched an eyebrow and Merlin’s mouth clicked shut of its own accord.

Gaius nodded with a smile, picking his medicine bag up from the table and slinging it over his shoulder.

“I will be back in an hour, Merlin. When I get back, I expect that soup to have been eaten, _by you_ , and I expect you to have not left that bed.”

Without giving Merlin time to protest, he swept out the door, leaving a rather shocked ward and four amused knights in his wake.

“Um, hi,” Merlin said after a long pause, blinking at the knights with wide eyes.

“Hi,” Gwaine said, smiling at him and dragging a chair to sit next to Merlin’s bed, the rest of the knights following his lead and dragging chairs over to sit in a half circle around Merlin.

He stared at them, confused.

“Eat,” Percival reminded him, and he brought a spoonful to his mouth, still staring at them with wide eyes.

“Aren’t you lot supposed to be in training right now?” he asked, taking another bite unprompted as he suddenly realized how hungry he was.

“We’re skiving off today,” Gwaine told him conspiratorially, an impish glint in his eyes.

Leon rolled his eyes beside him.

“We have permission from Arthur to miss training today,” he explained in fond exasperation, shaking his head at Gwaine before turning back to Merlin.

“You do?” Merlin asked, pausing as he brought anther spoonful to his mouth.

“Yes,” Gwaine groaned dramatically, sprawling back in his chair to emphasize his defeat. “We do, we have _permission_ ,” he said in disgust, “because _Leon_ went and tattled to Arthur we were going to skip.”

Leon rolled his eyes again, and the smirks on Percival and Elyan’s faces told Merlin this was a debate that had already been argued several times before they made it to Gaius’ chambers.

“I am the _First Knight_ , Gwaine,” Leon scolded with long suffering patience. “I cannot miss training without informing the king of the reason.”

Gwaine scoffed, looking unconvinced.

“Well, not with an attitude like that, you can’t,” Gwaine muttered petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting at Leon, much to Merlin’s amusement.

“Eat,” Percival reminded Merlin firmly when he set his spoon down in the bowl as he continued to watch the standoff between Leon and Gwaine, and Merlin rolled his eyes at the large knight in exasperation.

“He didn’t really mean -,” Merlin started before Percival cut him off.

“Yes, he did,” Percival told him, unconvinced by the unfinished argument, and Merlin sighed and brought the spoon to his mouth again.

“I can’t believe Gaius ordered you lot to babysit me, and I can’t believe Arthur let you skip training for it,” he grumbled, plunging his spoon into the bowl that seemed no emptier than it had started, despite Merlin quickly approaching full.

“He didn’t order us, we asked to come,” Elyan said, and Merlin paused, turning to the knight.

“You did?” he asked, taken aback, and Elyan gave a firm nod.

“And Arthur released us from training for the day because he realized we had something more important to do,” Leon said seriously, and Merlin’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what _Leon_ would think was more important than training.

“We came to apologize,” Gwaine said, soft and sincere, and Merlin turned his confusion to Gwaine instead, growing more confused by the moment instead of less.

“For what?” Merlin asked, dumbfounded.

“We wanted to apologize for not noticing you were gone,” Gwaine explained, his tone sad and serious.

Leon spoke before Merlin could figure out how to respond to that.

“We are sorry, Merlin, we truly are,” he said earnestly, and Merlin gaped at all of them as they nodded along.

“Oh, um,” he said after a long pause, “that’s alright? I mean, I’m really not mad about it.”

“You should be,” Elyan said bluntly.

“No, it’s -,” he started, but Gwaine cut him off with a shake of his head.

“It is not fine, and it is not ok,” he insisted, and Merlin struggled to come up with any other response.

“I… I am truly not angry about it,” he settled on eventually, “but if you refuse to accept that, then I forgive you?”

They let out breaths of relief, so Merlin supposed that was the right answer, but he was still more than a little baffled about the entire conversation.

“We _undoubtedly_ messed up,” Gwaine said, watching Merlin’s face carefully, “but why did you not expect we would notice you were gone?”

Merlin shrugged lightly, taking another bite of his stew.

“I know that between my schedule, my ranking, and my oddities I’m best suited as a starter friend, it’s ok. I still love you lot, no matter how much of prats you are on patrol.”

The knights exchanged confused looks.

“Starter friend?” Gwaine asked, sounding bewildered.

“You know,” Merlin said, cocking his head with a shrug. “Starter friend. The person you hang out with until you find the people you actually want to spend time with.”

His explanation was met with silence rather than the understanding nods he had been expecting.

“You’re not a starter friend,” Percival said, staring at Merlin with heartbroken eyes. “I want to spend time with you.”

“You do?” Merlin asked in honest confusion.

He blushed under the prolonged silence his question produced, and shrugged awkwardly.

“It’s just,” he flapped a hand with another casual shrug, trying to brush past the point without making a big deal out of it. “It’s just, I haven’t seen you at laundry duty since Lance died.”

Lancelot’s name sent a spike of pain through his chest, but he pushed on, trying to sound unaffected.

“I just... I just figured that Lancelot must have been the one you were visiting.”

Percival looked even sadder as he shook his head.

“No,” he told Merlin, soft but firm. “No, I was always visiting both of you, I love talking to you, Merlin. I just... I just thought that after -, after Lance -, I thought you’d want to leave that as a special thing we did with him.

I’ve tried to find you while you were doing other chores, but you’re actually very difficult to track down,” he admitted wryly. “The only reason I could consistently find you at laundry time is because I can see the wash lines out my chamber windows.”

“Oh,” Merlin blinked at him. “I -, uh -, oh. I -, I do like thinking of laundry time as something we used to do with Lance, but... but I’ve also missed you while I am out there.”

Percival’s eyes glinted wetly as he smiled, but no one drew attention to the reaction.

“Then I’ll be there the next time you are,” he promised softly.

Merlin swallowed down his rising emotion, clamping his mouth shut for a moment as he smiled.

“Good,” he whispered, suddenly looking forward to the next time he had to lug the heavy basket of Arthur’s clothes out to the back lines.

“Merlin -,” Gwaine started, cutting himself off and starting again. “I see you on the training grounds and in the castle hallways and -, and why do y-, why do we not talk anymore?”

“I didn’t want to interrupt when you’re talking to the other knights,” Merlin shrugged. “You finally found nobles worth having.”

Gwaine looked horrified.

“I still think you’re great,” Merlin reassured hurriedly, trying to fix the expression growing on Gwaine’s face with every word. “You’re my friend and I want you to be happy and I just thought -, you know, I’m a servant. Some of the knights are less than fond of me, and I just thought that -, you finally have more friends than you know what to do with and I didn’t want to mess that up for you.”

His explanation did _not_ help. Gwaine looked near tears, and Merlin’s frantic brain scrambled for a way to make it better, but came back empty.

“Merlin,” Gwaine whispered, sounding devastated. “Never, never, _never_ think that. You’re my first friend, and you’re my best friend. Any knight who isn’t fond of you can pick up my gauntlet and then never speak to me again.”

Merlin smiled at him, shy and touched, ducking his head slightly as his cheeks warmed despite his best efforts.

“Merlin, _please_ come talk to me, no matter who I’m with,” Gwaine asked, openly pleading, and Merlin blushed brighter but nodded, his smile growing happier and more bashful in equal measure.

“Ok,” he whispered, and Gwaine looked like the sun had come out, truly smiling for the first time since he had entered the room.

“So, I suppose you took me not riding by you on patrols as hating you?” Leon asked, sounding disappointed, and it took a moment for Merlin to understand it was disappointment in himself not Merlin.

“I mean, not _hating_ ,” Merlin defended weakly, trying to find a valid argument to deny that the statement was exactly what he had thought. “I just -, I just thought...”

“That I didn’t like you anymore once the round table knights joined the patrols and hunting parties?” Leon supplied, studying Merlin carefully.

Merlin shrugged, unable to come up with an adequate denial.

Leon’s shoulders slumped slightly, but he continued before Merlin could try to scramble for a way to fix the obvious hurt.

“You always ride by Arthur,” Leon said in a soft, sad voice. “Before this past summer, that was also where the king preferred I ride, but after the attack in the Valley of the Fallen Kings where you were hurt because we let you ride on the edge of the group, Arthur asked that I take the back position to guard against rear attacks, while he takes the front.

I promise you, Merlin, it was never about avoiding you, I’ve actually quite missed our talks, you have a way of making long rides much more entertaining, but Arthur has asked me to guard the rear, and I can’t leave my post.”

Merlin stared at him in wide-eyes silence for a long second.

“Oh,” he whispered, clearing his throat before he went on in a slightly louder, but exceedingly hesitant, voice. “Maybe next patrol I could ride back by you?”

Leon’s smile shone as it broadened, and he nodded emphatically.

“I would like that,” he said, warm and sincere, and Merlin nodded, swallowing hard.

“Do you think I’m avoiding you, too?” Elyan asked, slightly demanding, and Merlin quirked an embarrassed smile and a shrug.

“The only time I could be counted on to reliably talk to you was in the armory,” he reminded Elyan, “and for months now you’ve been pointedly going out of your way to avoid being in the armory when I am. What was I supposed to think if not that you were avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Elyan admitted sheepishly. “I’m avoiding the servant who polishes the knights’ equipment.”

Merlin let out a surprised laugh, cocking his head in confusion.

“Cador?” he asked, sounding bemused.

Elyan nodded seriously, much to the other knights’ amusement.

“He talked to me some months ago, greeting me as a knight and all that....” he trailed off, glancing at the knights with a sigh before he turned back to Merlin and continued. “He speaks with such a lilt that I couldn’t understand him.

I thought he had asked the name of the knight who had just left, and so I told him it was Alexander - which I later learned was wrong - but he hadn’t asked the knight’s name, he had asked _my_ name, and I’m sorry Merlin, I have missed our talks, but I can _never_ return to the armory when there might be people in it, because then I will have to explain to him that I didn’t even know my own name, and it is far too late to correct it gracefully now.”

The other knights howled with laughter at his predicament, but Merlin’s expression brightened by the word, so Elyan decided that all of the teasing that would come after would be worth it.

“So your current plan is that you will just never return to the armory at any time of day it might invite a servant to greet you by name in front of anyone?” Merlin gasped, wiping tears from his eyes.

Elyan nodded solemnly, but a rueful smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“That is how it has to be,” he told Merlin gravely.

Merlin laughed still harder, trying to breathe through his hysterics.

“Elyan,” he choked out, “Cador moved away from Camelot last month. He and his wife saved up and bought some farmland from one of the outer villages, he hasn’t been in the citadel since!”

Elyan blinked at him.

“Really?” he asked, stunned at the turn of events.

Merlin nodded, unable to stop laughing for long enough to answer verbally.

“Oh,” Elyan said, ignoring the knights around him who were roaring with laughter and focusing on Merlin. “Oh. Well, in that case, do you want to polish armor with me later when you’re feeling better?”

Merlin’s laughter calmed and a large, hopeful smile spread across his face.

“I’d like that,” he said quietly with a nod.

“Great,” Elyan said, returning the look with an affectionate smile of his own. “I’ve missed talking to you.”

Merlin’s cheeks dusted pink, but his smile grew even wider.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said, the conversation trailing off into a slightly awkward silence.

“Eat,” Percival reminded him pointedly, and Merlin groaned.

“I’m not hungry,” he whined, looking down at the, admittedly delicious, stew and wondering if he would actually explode if he finished it.

He looked back up to find Percival had crossed his arms and fixed him with an unimpressed look.

He sighed in defeat as he looked back to the bowl.

“Fine,” he muttered, forgoing the spoon and picking up the whole bowl, “but if I explode, it’s your fault.”

Percival didn’t seem overly worried about the possibility, and merely arched a silent eyebrow when Merlin cast him another pleading look.

Merlin sighed again, loudly and dramatically, so that Percival understood how much Merlin did _not_ appreciate being made to explode his own stomach, and tipped the rest of the soup into his mouth, finishing it in a few long gulps.

“There, happy?” he asked petulantly, showing Percival the empty bowl in proof, and his friend quirked an amused smile and nodded his acceptance.

Looking to the other knights, he found amusement, but a distinct lack of sympathy, so he rolled his eyes and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

He moved to stand, but was immediately halted by a hand on his chest and shoved back down to his seat.

He blinked, following the hand up to a vaguely panicking Gwaine.

Merlin cocked his head in question, glancing to the other knights to find them just as worried. What they were worried about, Merlin couldn’t fathom, but they all seemed to agree there was some kind of problem.

“What are you doing?” Gwaine demanded, still not removing his hand from Merlin’s chest, as though Merlin were planning to bolt away at any second.

Merlin’s brow furrowed.

“Um, I’m,” he glanced down at his bowl and spoon and then raised both in proof to the knights, “I’m putting away my dishes?” he asked more than answered.

“What part of ‘don’t get out of that bed’ did you not understand?” Elyan asked in exasperation, taking the bowl and spoon from Merlin and crossing to the far corner of the room before Merlin fully registered what was happening.

“Um, the part about why it’s necessary,” he said, his answer escaping as more of a question than he had intended as Gwaine prodded him back into his previous position. “I’m not useless, you know.”

Elyan returned to his seat with another completely unnecessary eye roll.

“Merlin,” he sighed in a tone of resigned exasperation that Merlin did _not_ think he deserved, “no one here thinks you’re useless.

Of course you’re not useless, we would never think that. You are injured though, and the _royal physician_ told you to stay in bed, so that’s what you’re going to do.”

Merlin slouched back against the wall his bed was sitting against in pointed disagreement, but Elyan was unmoved. Even worse, the other knights seemed to agree with him.

“Gaius is just making me stay in bed because he knows I hate it,” he insisted, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to keep himself from pouting.

He suspected he wasn’t successful, but all of the knights' expressions softened and turned fond, so at least something came out of it.

“Or,” Leon drawled knowingly, arching an eyebrow and daring Merlin to dispute his next statement, “ _perhaps_ Gaius assigned bed rest because you have an _injured leg_.”

Merlin couldn’t help his petulant pouting, but even though the knights’ expressions warmed even further, none of them were showing any signs of being even slightly dissuaded from enforcing the completely unreasonable rules, so Merlin decided to gracefully accept defeat.

“No, it’s because he knows I hate it,” he muttered in an audible undertone, and the knights laughed at his grumpiness.

“Merlin, mate,” Gwaine chuckled, shaking his head in fond amusement, “why do you hate it? You’re always asking Arthur for a day off, bask in it! Enjoy it, you don’t get them nearly enough.”

Merlin shook his head, blatantly unconvinced.

“I tell Arthur I want time off, but I don’t want to just sit here and do _nothing_ ,” he explained. “I want to catch up on all the other things I need to do, like the duties for Gaius and the steward-assigned chores.

I want to catch up so I’m not always behind, but that doesn’t mean I want to just sit around and do _nothing_ , I’m not useless.”

“Merlin,” Elyan cut in with long-suffering patience, “what is it with you and thinking you’re useless?”

“I’m _not_ useless,” Merlin corrected. “I’m use _ful_ , which is the only reason I get to go everywhere with you idiots. I really do like leaving the castle with you lot even though you are all giant prats and kill innocent bunnies.”

“Merlin,” Elyan started, glancing at the others before he went on. “We don’t bring you because you’re useful, we bring you because we like you.”

“You all like Gwen, and she doesn’t come,” Merlin pointed out.

“Merlin, the fact that Arthur would be utterly incapable of going on patrol without you is not because you do chores non-stop,” Gwaine told him seriously. “It’s because you’re the only one in the whole kingdom who can put up with him when he gets grumpy, and you’re the only one brave enough to wake him up in the mornings.”

The others nodded their emphatic agreement.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Elyan said, reclaiming Merlin’s attention, “we really appreciate you cooking and cleaning for us, but we want you to come because you’re _you_.

You have to know that we could have brought other servants if we wanted to on trips, but we’d much rather spend time with you and be entertained by your non-stop banter and ability to corral a snapping, grumpy Arthur into submission.”

“We want you to come because you are you, and taking a well-deserved day off because of an injury won’t change that,” Percival said firmly, and Merlin opened his mouth to respond, then shut it again with a blush.

“Oh,” he said, his voice quiet, and they all rolled their eyes.

“Yes, oh,” Leon said dryly. “We are going to have to work on this self-esteem problem of yours, Merlin.”

Merlin’s eyes went wide and his cheeks flamed brighter.

“Please don’t,” he begged the men all impishly smiling around him.

“Well, it wouldn’t be very knightly of us not to fix a problem we’re aware of, now would it?” Elyan asked facetiously.

“It’s not a problem,” Merlin tried to assure them.

“It is,” Percival said firmly.

“No, it’s -,” Merlin tried to argue before Gwaine cut over him.

“Merlin, mate,” he said, more seriously than before. "We are obviously not appreciating you well enough if you think that we’ve been avoiding you for weeks, viewed you as a ‘starter friend’,” he said, his lips twisting as though he had just tasted something sour, “and only like you because you do chores every single second of your life. We need to do better.”

“I don’t -,” Merlin tried to start again, but shrunk back under the combined looks of all four men.

“No, Gwaine is right. You do, and we do,” Leon stated with a resolute expression on his face.

“If you do this in front of Arthur, I’ll never hear the end of it,” Merlin complained.

The knights exchanged looks that Merlin couldn’t quite decipher.

“I don’t think Arthur will make fun of you for this,” Percival told him, and Merlin rolled his eyes emphatically.

“Arthur makes fun of me for everything,” he shot back in unimpressed exasperation.

“Not for this,” Percival said, sounding like he knew something Merlin didn’t, and the servant cocked his head as he studied the large knight, shivering slightly as he contemplated when a cold draft from the window prickled his bare arms.

“I think you need another blanket,” Leon commented before Merlin could puzzle through Percival’s confidence in the matter.

“Oh!” Merlin lit up, completely distracted from his previous quandary. “Arthur gave me his blanket, and it’s so warm! Let me show you, I’ll go grab it.”

He was once again stopped with a hand on his chest, this time before he could even fully sweep his feet off the bed, and he followed the arm back up to find Gwaine blocking his path again, more exasperated than panicking this time.

“It’s in my room,” he explained in his defense, and all four knights rolled their eyes.

With a loud sigh of affectionate irritation, Leon stood and made his way to Merlin’s room, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

Merlin watched him go in a bewildered silence.

“Alright, this is your own fault,” Gwaine informed him, not explaining what he meant before he gave Merlin a firm shove that pushed him into the corner his bed was up against and then sat on the mattress next to him, looping an arm over his shoulders and dragging the smaller man into his side.

It took a moment for Merlin to process what had happened, but when he did, he groaned in annoyance and shot his grinning friend an unimpressed look.

“Gwaine!” he whined. “What are you doing? Get off, you prat.”

Gwaine seemed unperturbed by the scolding and merely smiled back at him, happy and pleased.

“I can get off if you’d rather one of the others take my place, but you have thoroughly proven you are incapable of following Gaius’ rules without enforcement, so you’ll have to deal with one of us holding you on this bed.”

Merlin looked indignantly to the other two, then to the bemused Leon coming down the stairs, and found none of them willing to rescue him from his Gwaine barred prison, so he slumped in defeat into the man’s side.

“Why are you like this?” he asked Gwaine with no heat, accepting the blanket Leon offered with a nod of grudging thanks.

“Because you’re my best friend and favorite person, and I care about you,” Gwaine answered simply, blunt and unashamed.

Merlin was no longer cold in the slightest, and he ducked his face as he pretended to concentrate on situating his blanket, wondering if the others could feel the sheer amount of heat pouring off his cheeks.

“Oh, thanks,” he muttered, embarrassed, not looking up for another long second.

When he had thoroughly exhausted the excuse of situating the thick, blue blanket, he looked up to find all of them watching him with warm looks of open affection, and blushed even brighter, if that were possible, trying -and failing- to stop himself from shrinking further into Gwaine’s side to hide.

"We'll get you used to it," Gwaine assured confidently, and Merlin was quite certain he would never be able to receive such blatant compliments without blushing no matter how many he received, but Elyan moved the conversation on to a story he had heard through the castle grapevine before he could refute Gwaine's proclamation, and from there the conversation took off.

Merlin sank further into Gwaine's side and wondered if he had ever had a better day in Camelot.

The sun was warm as it streamed in through the window, and the cold draft only seeped inside when the wind blew directly against the window pane, but his new blanket was more than adequate protection, even without the warmth that Gwaine provided.

As he sat, warm and comfortable, surrounded by his friends and their laughter, he felt the world realign itself from the dark spiral it had seemed to be spinning into.

It turned out Gaius was right, as usual. Being confined to bed was exactly what he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the knights finally have their heads on straight! They're all so dumb, and I love them. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, I'd love to hear what you think!


	7. Maybe You’re Not The Worst Thing Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are AMAZING! Thank you so much for all of the phenomenally kind comments, I LOVE YOU!

Merlin smiled happily to himself, feeling lighter than he had in years.

They had saved Gwen, he had not lost his friends after all, Arthur had actually said with real words that Merlin mattered to him, and for the first time he could remember since coming to Camelot, he was sitting in a comfortable bed next to a bright window as the birds sang and the city moved below him, and he had nothing to do.

Gaius had returned and dismissed the knights from their posts, which they had reluctantly relinquished at his insistence. The physician had plied Merlin with more tea, this round significantly better tasting, and then whisked off on a quick errand to re-wrap a wound with strict instructions to stay in the bed with an intimidatingly raised eyebrow to further the demand.

Merlin gave a sigh of pure contentment, letting his eyes fall closed as he enjoyed the feel of the warm sun on his face.

Merlin had barely basked in the novelty of having free time for a whole minute before the door creaked quietly open and clicked shut again, the softly shuffling footsteps not matching the familiar gait of Gaius' entrance.

His brow furrowed and he cracked an eye open as he turned to see who had come in.

He felt his pleasant mood fall away as he registered that Mordred was wringing his hands in the entryway.

Merlin sighed and sat up straighter, turning to face the door as Mordred walked forward.

“Hello, Emr-, Merlin,” he said, sounding a little nervous.

Merlin watched him, unimpressed.

“Mordred,” he said in a flat tone with a nod of greeting.

The young knight wilted.

His step stuttered for a moment, but he continued across the room, hesitantly pulling a seat out near Merlin's bed and sitting.

Merlin studied him impassively, making no move to start a conversation as Mordred wrung his hands in his lap, clearly having something to say and looking for a place to start.

"I... I am glad you are feeling better," he offered, looking hopefully at the man on the bed.

"Thank you," Merlin said stiffly, trying to force himself to be polite to the man that would kill his king if Merlin couldn't stop him.

Mordred winced.

"I... I apologize for... for leaving you behind, Emrys," Mordred said, guilty and sincere, and Merlin softened despite himself.

"It's not your fault, I never blamed you," Merlin absolved, his expression warming a little, against his will, and the relief that shone out of Mordred's expression made him feel slightly guilty for how he treated the man.

"Thank you," Mordred said earnestly, smiling at Merlin as if the sun had come out, and Merlin felt his guilt grow.

"Why do you care what I think?" Merlin asked curiously after a long beat of silence. "I'm just a servant, my opinion holds no weight, you know that, right?"

Mordred's mouth dropped open.

"No weight?" he echoed, shocked. " _No weight_? Merlin, you are not _just a servant_ , you are _Emrys_. I have heard the promise of your coming since I was old enough to understand words.

Every druid old enough to speak knows your name. You are not just a servant, Merlin, you are our _savior_. Your opinion is _all_ that matters to me."

Merlin stared at him in surprise, guilt growing by the word.

"Oh," he said finally, when he found his voice. "Oh," he repeated, softer, his regret obvious.

His gaze dropped to his own lap, unable to keep looking into Mordred's wide, earnest eyes without being crushed under the weight of his guilt.

"I'm sorry," he offered softly, eyes flicking up to Mordred's before dropping again.

"Thank you," Mordred said with far more sincere gratitude in his tone than Merlin felt such an apology deserved.

Merlin nodded an acknowledgement, but couldn't find a verbal response to give.

"Can I -," Mordred started to ask, cutting himself off before he continued, taking a breath and starting again. "Emrys, can I ask _why_ you dislike me so much?"

Merlin pressed his lips together, considering Mordred for a long moment.

"I...," Merlin momentarily debated lying about the reasoning, but Mordred's expression was so earnest and so hopeful that Merlin sighed and resigned himself to the truth. "I have received... a warning, I suppose you'd say.

An... an ally who is aware of the prophecy, and has a stronger connection than the average to destiny, has warned me that... he has warned me that you will be the one who kills Arthur if I don't stop you."

Merlin tried to soften the statement, but the horrified silence that resulted told him that he failed.

Mordred's eyes were wide, and his mouth opened and shut as he tried to respond, but couldn't find his voice, looking pale and shocked.

"I -," he finally managed, more than a little panicked, "I would never, _never_ , Emrys! I -, no! No, never. I promise, I would never -, I _will_ never! I am loyal to King Arthur, and I am loyal to you, and I will be until the day I die!"

Merlin felt more doubt and guilt creep in as he watched Mordred's desperate face, but he still couldn't quite release the thought that if he let his guard down and Arthur died, it would be all his fault.

"I _want_ to believe that," Merlin said, a note of his feeling of helplessness slipping through. "I really do.

You seem kind, and funny, and _good_ , but -, but if I let my guard down, if I let you in, and I am _wrong,_ then I am not only risking my best friend and king, but also everything he is supposed to do for all of magic.

You seem so good, and I truly want to believe that, but... but the fate of _everything_ is on my shoulders, and if I mess it up...," he trailed off with a helpless shrug, and Mordred looked heartbroken.

"Emrys," he said, his tone full of desperation and sincerity in equal parts. "I swear to you, I will _never_ kill King Arthur. I will never _conspire_ to kill him, I will never knowingly do _anything_ that I think would bring his death.

Emrys, I swear to you on my life and my magic that I will _never_ kill him, my loyalty is to my king, and my loyalty is to you, I _swear_ to you, Emrys," he finished emphatically, holding his arm out in the gesture the knights used in particularly serious situations when they swore an oath to one another.

Merlin bit his lip, looking between Mordred's earnest, pleading eyes and the offered hand.

His head told him it was stupid to trust a promise, it was stupid to disregard Kilgharrah's warning, but his heart and his magic urged him to take the offering. His magic practically sang through his veins as he considered what it would be to trust Mordred, and before he could talk himself out of it, he reached forward and clasped the knight's forearm, accepting the oath.

Mordred beamed at him as he made contact, but a split-second later they both stared around the room in shock.

When Merlin took Mordred's forearm, light burst into existence around them.

A band of golden light suddenly appeared, twisting in the air around them like a ribbon being spun through the room. It started around their clasped arms, brilliant and bright, but not touching them, wrapping around and around their arms until it arced outward, encircling both of them and spiraling further, filling the room with a beautiful light.

The ribbon of light moved and flowed as if it were being spun by an invisible dancer, and more and more of the golden ribbon seemed to pour out of their connected forearms, spreading further and further until it encompassed the whole room.

Once it reached the walls, it froze, hanging in the air as if waiting for something.

The ribbon shifted where it hung, changing shape, and after a moment of movement it stilled to reveal a thick, golden chain that circled around and connected to the links around their forearms, leaving all of the mass of light connected.

The chain stayed suspended around them for several long seconds before it slowly faded away, leaving them both in a stunned silence.

"What was _that_?" Merlin demanded after a long moment, eyes flicking around the room, tracing the places the golden light had been moments before.

Mordred's wide eyes turned from the room to Merlin.

"An unbreakable vow," he breathed, as if that was supposed to answer anything.

Merlin waited for a moment, hoping he would go on, but he didn't, just staring at Merlin in awe and wonder that he didn't understand.

"What's an unbreakable vow?" Merlin asked when it was clear Mordred wasn't going to elaborate without prompting.

Some of the reverence fell away from Mordred's expression as his brow furrowed.

"You don't know what an unbreakable vow is?" he asked, sounding deeply confused, and Merlin rolled his eyes with a huff of self-deprecating amusement.

"Mordred," he said seriously. "I cannot possibly convey to you how little I know about anything."

Mordred gave a surprised snort of laughter, more of the shock and wonder falling away as he fixed Merlin with a bemused look.

"It is a... a sort of... ritual I guess you could say," he explained, flapping a hand through the air as he tried to find the words to make Merlin understand. "It... it is essentially a magical promise.

Not everyone can do them. If your magic or your conviction are not strong enough, the magical bond will not form, and if the recipient doubts the sincerity of the oath-maker, their magic will reject the bonding attempt.

It -, it's like the name says, it's unbreakable."

"Like it will control you if you start to do something contrary to the oath?" Merlin asked, feeling vaguely horrified that magic was capable of such things.

Mordred shook his head.

"No, no, it's not _control_ , exactly," he tried to answer, lips twisting as he thought about how to illustrate the distinction. "It's not _control_ in that it will control my actions, I am not a puppet, my actions will always be my own. It is control in that I can't break my oath, though.

If someone makes an unbreakable vow, their _magic_ swore to uphold their promise, and their magic is part of them, you cannot hide anything from your own magic.

I will _not_ , and I will _never_ , but if I did ever try to kill our king, my magic would kill me before I am able.

My magic can sense my intent. If I were, say, strategizing about how _someone_ could kill Arthur so we can devise strategies to better protect him, my magic would not do anything, but if _I_ began legitimately strategizing on how to kill him, my magic would kill me.

I could verbally say I am going to kill Arthur, I could even hold a knife to his throat, but if I do not intend to do it, nothing will happen. The second my intent changes, that's when my magic would take action.”

Merlin looked at him with wide eyes as he tried to take in what Mordred was saying, trying to comprehend how so many of his life's problems had just been solved.

"It is worth noting," Mordred went on in a reluctant tone, "that as it is tied to intent, if the death were to be completely and legitimately accidental, my magic would not do anything to kill me. I am...," his brow furrowed and he cocked his head as he thought, "I am not actually sure what would happen if someone were to magically influence me, like a fomorroh or a mandrake binding spell, where my intent would be to do something, but it is not truly _my_ intent... I suspect it would still enact the failsafe, but I am not completely certain about that," he admitted.

Merlin stared at him, trying to breathe through his relief. His chest felt like it had been encased in something thick and heavy, and for the first time in years, the weight had been removed.

"This is amazing," he whispered, awestruck, and the worried expression Mordred was watching him with melted into a smile. "This is...," Merlin trailed off, trying to find a word that could encompass his overwhelming relief, and coming up short. He let out a stuttery breath, and his lips twitched up as he started to comprehend what the oath meant.

His smile grew until he was beaming, feeling as though he could float away at any moment from the sheer relief coursing through him.

"This changes _everything_ ," he announced in an almost giddy excitement, and Mordred echoed it as his own smile grew blinding.

Merlin took another deep breath, unable to believe how much had changed in just a few minutes.

"This is amazing," he whispered, awestruck. "This -, this fixes _so many_ things.”

He laughed brightly, then tried to school his face into a mock scowl.

"I will be fact checking you," he informed Mordred in a playful seriousness that they both knew was legitimate under the bantering tone. "Don't think you can just make a light show to convince me, I will be asking Gaius later."

Mordred laughed, sounding light and free, and he nodded along in agreement.

"He will tell you what I told you," he told Merlin confidently, and Merlin studied his face for any signs of a lie, brightening even further when he didn't find any.

Merlin nodded an ecstatic acceptance, feeling lightheaded as his relief continued to pulse through him.

Kilgharrah was going to be _furious_ the next time Merlin talked to him, but Merlin felt like he could finally breathe again. There would still be people who tried to kill Arthur, Merlin could count on that like he could count on the sun to rise in the east, but knowing it wouldn't be Mordred was a relief he was still having trouble believing.

He no longer had to diligently watch Mordred, who lived in the castle with Arthur and was almost impossible to completely keep track of around Merlin's chore schedule and physician duties.

He no longer had to watch every sparing match with the focused intensity that gave him stress-induced headaches and made his shoulders ache as he realized retroactively that his body tensed anytime Mordred walked near Arthur with a sword, and he did that quite often.

He no longer had to carefully keep an eye on Arthur's food in relation to Mordred, no longer had to doubt every suggestion out of the knight's mouth, or fear every time he was assigned to patrol with them that it would be the patrol he snapped and killed the king.

He would no longer face the judgment and confused looks from the knights as they tried, and failed, to understand why Merlin hated the newest knight with such a passion.

“This may very well be the best day of my life,” he told Mordred, bursting with happiness, and Mordred smiled back at him.

“You are not what I expected,” Mordred observed, watching him in fond speculation.

“Oh?” Merlin asked, cocking his head in question.

"Well, with the reverence most druid elders use to teach of your coming, I had always pictured you as more of a god than a man,” Mordred shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed.

Merlin felt his cheeks flame, and the ever present feeling of being overwhelmed by the expectations he could never hope to live up to flared in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he offered uncomfortably, feeling like it was too small a statement for the disappointment he had turned out to be to the druids, who were essentially _his_ people.

As Arthur led his kingdom, Merlin abruptly realized he was probably supposed to be leading _his_ ... Emrys-dom, and he felt his breath catch with how badly he was failing them.

Mordred didn’t seem to realize Merlin was spiraling into an overwhelming chasm of inadequacy and quirked a rueful smile with a shrug.

“Don’t apologize,” he said, as earnest and sincere as always, “I like you better this way.”

Mordred blushed, looking mortified at having released that statement into the world, but Merlin’s spinning terror abruptly halted, and he replayed the statement in his head. Mordred thought he was ... better because he was just Merlin?

Some of the constant anxiety over his role and failings to the druids he carried with him fell away, a small, shy smile growing on his face.

Mordred brightened at the friendly reaction.

“Even though you spent most of your time hating me,” he clarified in a lightly teasing tone, his smile contagious, and Merlin felt his own growing as he chuckled.

“I don’t know if I’d say _hating_ ,” Merlin hedged playfully, his eyes dancing with amusement as Mordred rolled his eyes emphatically.

“I would,” he muttered, unable to keep up his pseudo aggravation when Merlin broke into laughter.

“In my defense,” Merlin told him once he got himself under control, “it is extremely aggravating to try to dislike you.

You’re an earnest little ball of sunshine, and it is incredibly frustrating to have to have a constant reminder I’m supposed to be paranoid about you going in my head because if I didn’t repeat it to myself I’d forget.

I was so frustrated that the world would send me exactly the kind of person I had been hoping for, only to come with the preface you would murder my best friend and destroy my destiny.

I mean, for a decade, -well, actually for my whole life- I have been waiting for a friend I could talk about magic with, and I have Gaius, and he’s amazing, but he's my mentor, and that’s not the same as a _friend_.

And I had Will and I had Lancelot, but I ... I lost them both, and destiny plopped you down in front of me with full knowledge of the weight of the prophecy and my magic and then told me not to befriend you.

Then, to top it all off, literally everyone else loves you, and so not only are you everything I wanted in a friend, you’re also invited everywhere I go, and even when you’re not it seems like I’m always getting an update about some new great things you did. Especially because the knights adore you, and they’d constantly be telling me great things you did to try to get me to like you, and my first reaction is to agree that it was great, and then I had to remind myself I’m supposed to be hating you or I’d forget, it’s really annoying.

You’re much too likable for my own good. It’s very difficult to dislike likable people, which just made me more annoyed. Vicious cycles and all that...”

Mordred’s lips twitched at the explanation, visibly trying to shove down his amusement at Merlin’s rambling defense.

“I’m sorry to have caused such distress on your life, Emrys. Whatever can I do to make it up to you?” he asked, valiantly trying -and failing- to ask his question with a solemn expression and serious tone.

“Well,” Merlin tapped his chin thoughtfully, “now that I’m not morally opposed to everything you say and do, we could use our telepathy to prank the knights?”

Mordred looked like all his dreams had come true, and Merlin wondered how he had ever hated this child. Man. How he had ever hated this man. It was difficult, sometimes, to remember that Mordred was a grown man when he beamed and bounced around with the wide eyed enthusiasm of an adorably precocious child.

Merlin tried to shove down another wave of giddy relief, a little in awe of just how much of his life had changed in such a short time.

Mordred was no longer his enemy, and more than that, he now had an _ally_. An ally with _magic_ , an ally that knew about the prophecy, that knew about Merlin’s magic, someone who could help him when they went on dangerous quests beyond the castle’s walls.

Once he let himself stop reciting his mantra on repeat that Mordred would turn evil and kill Arthur at any moment, he was becoming alarmingly fond of the knight alarmingly quickly.

He shoved down a laugh as he thought about going on patrol as Mordred’s friend. The knights were going to be so confused.

~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~…~*~

Gaius had been gone longer than he had meant to be.

He had only meant to go to Lord Banrit’s chambers to re-wrap his hand, but had been side tracked three separate times before he could return to his chambers, and he did not have high hopes for his ward being in the bed like he was supposed to be.

He eyed his door curiously as he heard Merlin’s loud laughter coming from the room along with another laugh that Gaius couldn’t place.

“And then we’ll _both_ slip into the side chamber with no one the wiser!” Merlin was saying as Gaius pushed the door open, eyebrows raising when he saw it was _Mordred_ who was howling in the chair next to Merlin’s sickbed.

He watched in confusion as Merlin wiped tears out of his eyes, and Mordred clutched his stomach while he nodded an eager agreement.

The boys continued laughing for several long moments before they noticed Gaius in the doorway.

“Hi, Gaius,” Merlin greeted, barely pushing his hilarity down long enough to get the words out.

Gaius raised his eyebrow further.

Mordred stood, still laughing, and waved a hand at Merlin.

“I am sure Gaius will need to re-examine your leg, so I will take my leave, Merlin,” he said, finally getting his laughter under control, but his eyes still shone brightly as he smiled widely at the man on the bed.

“Don’t forget to fact-check, Emrys,” he said by way of a parting statement that Gaius did not understand.

Merlin must have, though, because he broke into another round of chuckles as he nodded.

“Don’t forget the frogs, Mordred,” he returned, and Mordred’s grin widened even further.

“I won’t,” he promised, giving one more wave to Merlin, a respectful nod to Gaius, and then he was out the door and gone.

Feeling a bit dazed by the bizarre situation, Gaius belatedly reached out and shut the door, turning to face his ward, who was still looking extremely amused by whatever was happening with frogs.

“Frogs?” he asked, a little bewildered, and deeply concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my baby sister, Summer_Meadows, for coming up with this chapter. 
> 
> I handed her what I thought was a completed story, and she went, ‘no, it needs a Mordred fix, too,' and this chapter was born. She was also the one that came up with the idea of using an unbreakable vow, inspired by Harry Potter, to fix the ‘why would Merlin just believe a promise?’ problem I had with adding in Mordred.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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